


These Marks on My Skin

by starchaser22



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Background Relationships, Canon Divergence, M/M, Minor Cisco Ramon/Lisa Snart, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, coldflash - Freeform, what did I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchaser22/pseuds/starchaser22
Summary: Soulmate AU where every night you receive a message with a random sentence your soulmate has said that day on your skin.After the Particle Accelerator Explosion, Len begins to worry about the lack of words on his wrist. However, nine months later, when they come back at the same time as The Scarlet Speedster, it doesn't take him too long to put two and two together.





	1. Chapter 1

Leonard didn’t really believe in soulmates. The thought that there was one person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life was completely ridiculous. Maybe it was true thousands of years ago, when the Earth’s population was smaller, but now, there were billions of people. It’s kind of idiotic to think that there is one specific person you were meant to find and settle down with.

Knowing that, one could see why Len spent all of his early years surrounded by those with the same mindset. Every night, when a marking appeared on your skin with a random sentence your soulmate had said that day, Len and his small crew would laugh about it. Some of the others were in different languages, while some were just ridiculous. Len usually made fun at his, too, laughing that they sounded like they were said by a child.

When Len grew older, started taking on crime with his father and getting involved with less friendly crowds, he began to worry what words would appear on his soulmate’s wrist. Would it be something dangerous? Would he give away information about a heist without even knowing it? This whole soulmate system was really quite flawed.

When his father was arrested, it left him with occasional meetups with his sister. Other than that, he was alone. He talked to those he was doing business with, and would call up Lisa from time to time, but he mostly just grew lonely.

Len began paying more attention to the marks on his skin.

The mere thought that there could be someone out there whom the universe had created specifically for him seemed less and less absurd. It became increasingly clear that his soulmate wasn’t a child anymore. Somedays, a string of complex numbers and equations would appear, and Len wondered what they meant. Other times, it would have something to do with their parents, and those made even less sense.

As the years went by, not much changed. He still read the words that appeared, tracing his thumb over the pronounced ink in his skin. He and Lisa decided to move back in together, now that they were both independent, and things got a lot less lonely. They always ate their meals in one another's company, and Len felt open around her, like he could tell her anything. That is, as long as she stayed away from his work. He didn’t want his sister getting herself killed.

One night, Len laid awake in his bed, running his fingertips along the curves and turns of every letter. The clock read 3:27, far past waking hours. Yet, here he was, fully clothed, lying on top of his bed sheets, staring at some sentence that some kid he didn’t even know had said that day.

He wondered how Lisa knew Len was awake. All his lights were off, save for a small desk lamp. It’s not like he was making much noise. He jumped when there was a knock at the door. She didn’t wait for a response before creaking it open.

“What’s up?” she asked, barely above a whisper. Lisa tiptoed over and took a seat at the end of his bed. The sound of sheets shuffled beneath her, wrinkling under the touch.

“This whole soulmate thing,” Len started, then sighed, sitting up as to face his sister directly. “Do you think it’s realistic?”

She looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”

He raised his hand up to his head, running it over the short prickles on his scalp. “I mean, do you really think that there is one person we are meant to be with?” The two of them had never really talked about their soulmates together before. Lisa would bring boys home a lot during their early years living together, but it gradually slowed and, come to think of it, Leonard couldn’t remember the last time she had.

“Oh, Lenny,” she reached and gently placed her fingers on his knee. “May I see yours?”

He extended his arm, showing her his decorated wrist.

_Actually, I’m going to visit my dad today. Raincheck?_

Lisa trailed her index finger over the dark marks several times before rolling up her sleeve and showing him her own.

_How can you speak so many different languages and sound like a dick in every one of them?_

Len chuckled, “Sounds like your soulmate, alright.”

His sister pulled her arm back, smiling at the witty phrase engraved on it. “I don’t know much about them. Sometimes, there’s some weird science-y stuff on there.” Lisa crinkled her nose.

“That happens to me, too,” He confessed.

“And sometimes, they’re in Spanish.”

“Oh?” He tried not to voice his surprise.

She nodded, “I bought a Spanish-to-English Dictionary to try and understand some of it, but it hasn’t really been working.”

There was a pause where Len looked down at his own soulmate’s words. “Does yours ever talk about their family?”

“Not really,” Lisa responded. “They did mention that their brother played piano, but that was several years ago.”

“I wish I knew something about mine,” He looked down, solemnly examining the tips of his fingers as he ran them along his cold, blue veins. “They always talk about their parents”

“Maybe he still lives with them?” Lisa suggested. "But they never refer to anyone as ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’. I have so many questions.” Len looked up to make eye contact with his sister, waiting for her to urge him on. She nodded, and he continued, eager to share his ever-curious thoughts. “Do they have any siblings? Are their parents okay? Lisa,” he leaned forward, “I have so many questions about their family alone. I want to know more about them. I want to know everything about them.”

The tips of his sister’s mouth turned into a small grin. “I think you should rest,” she said calmly. “We can talk about all this in the morning. It’s late.” It was weird, actually, having Lisa helping him to relax instead of vice versa. He nodded, and she walked over to turn off the light.

Len didn’t sleep well that night.

He was haunted by dreams of unknown names and unknown faces, screaming at him to look up, look out, pay attention. Thunder roared in his mind, flashing white with every toss and turn his body made. Ears roaring with the sound of his own racing heartbeat, he woke three hours later. Dawn shimmered through the window, soft glows of orange and red shaking beneath the city buildings.

Leonard drug himself out the back door to watch the sun rise.

He slid down the side of the building, the coarse material catching his soft pajamas. The sun glimmered above the Earth, heating the ground below. Len just watched, tracing his now bare wrist with his thumb, then using the same finger to trace the dirt near their entryway. Dawn had long since come and gone, the occasional neighbors shooting curious glares as they walked by, beginning their daily routines. Hours must have passed before Lisa stirred, bringing her brother some tea while he sat outside.

“What time is it?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“A little after nine,” She answered, taking a long sip of her tea.

Len stretched his legs out in front of him. There were several minutes of peaceful silence before he said, barely above a whisper, “I just wish I knew something.”

She matched his volume, “What do you want to know?”

He slouched against the wall again, taking a few seconds to think about his answer. “Anything.”

“Oh, Lenny,” She looked sympathetic. He really hated being emotional around his little sister, but sometimes, with her being the only companion in his life, he couldn’t help it. She slid down the wall next to him, rubbing his shoulder. “I think we need to get you a puppy.”

“A puppy?” Len didn’t think he had heard her right.

“Puppies make everything better.”

“Lisa, I don’t need a _puppy_.”

Although Leonard did not get a puppy, after talking to his sister about his soulmate, he did feel a bit less stressed. This was his soulmate. If he really was meant to meet this person, he would. There’s no reason to go hounding after them. Once they meet, he’s sure all his questions will be answered.

So, he left it. Len still looked at the words on his skin. Whoever was on the other end, their words were often very lighthearted. He did get a pun one time, and even though it was terrible, he couldn’t help but smile at whoever was on the other end.

Leonard did love his job, he really did. There was nothing comparable to the thrill after a successful heist. The way your head felt light, yet you could feel every vein, pulse, bone in your body at once. It was exhilarating, yet still overwhelming. However, whether he was successful or not, Len always knew that the carefree words of his soulmate would line his wrist when he got home.

But then the world changed.

Overnight.

As the particle accelerator exploded, releasing who knows what into the atmosphere, the world changed.

From the dirt beneath his feet, to the oxygen he breathed, and all the way up to the clouds in the sky. Everything was different.

His home, Central City, plunged into chaos.

Several were pronounced dead, most due to unknown causes. The number of supernatural reports increased drastically. Hospitals were closer to being full than ever before. Panic spread as people screamed at Harrison Wells, the leader of the particle accelerator project.

The marks stopped.

This wasn’t the result of some dark matter interference. Len’s soulmate was gone.

Dead, he assumed. The marks just stopped. Science wasn’t supposed to mix with fate.

After that, Leonard felt as if his jaw was constantly clenched, fists bleached white. The world grew colder. Where the ink once was, it now felt like ice, chilling his prominent blue veins and the pale joints surrounding them.

He spent his days paralyzed, reacting to the world around him. He still worked, pulling off heists with the same degree of success as before, but what did he have to look forward too? All he had was short term pleasures. The payment of a job, the cool air that peeked through his window at night, opening a new carton of untouched, perfectly smoothed ice cream.

But it was all short term.

It was foolish to believe that soulmates were real. It was foolish to get attached to someone he had never even met. It was foolish to hope that someone as lighthearted and carefree as the one on the other end of his bond was out there, unmoving, waiting for him like he was waiting for them, and he was, but it was all just so, so foolish.

Several months passed before anything had changed.

It was the morning after a heist. The job had overall been successful, but the tech advisor had been injured on the way out. Len was exhausted, thoughts churning over in his mind of what he should have done differently. Maybe if they were a few seconds earlier, or if they had gone on a different night, or-

“Morning, Lenny.”

He groaned.

Lisa sat down in the seat across from him, letting a plate of toast down on the table. Her smile was all too cheerful, a deep contrast to Len’s mood.

“How’d it go last night?” She asked, teeth so bright, he felt as if he needed UV protection.

He groaned again, gently placing his reading glasses on the surface before him. “Could have gone better.”

She waited a few minutes, smile fading. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

He grunted, still nodding all the same.

“Did something happen?” She looked down at her half-eaten toast. Len glared at her through his eyelashes. “I mean, you just haven’t been the same.”

Sighing, he responded, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That was a lie.

“Well,” Lisa reached up to run her fingers through her hair, curls tangling between the knuckles. “You have just seemed distant these past few months.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Can I guess?”

He let out an exasperated breath of air, slouching down in the hair. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged.

“Does it have to do with the supernatural appearances?” His sister asked. When Leonard showed no visible response, she continued. “Has someone on your team betrayed you?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You know what I would have done if that had happened.”

“Right.” Lisa’s brows furrowed, trying to think of what else had happened in the past few months. “Did you talk to Dad?” He rolled his eyes again. “No? Hmm.”

He looked down at the floor, kicking a loose rock with his toe.

“Oh! Does it have to do with that science thing that happened a few months ago? The, uh, accelerator?”

Len shifted in his seat, suddenly very interested in the rock. “The Particle Accelerator.”

“Yes, that!”

He dropped his hands to his sides, gaze shifting to the ceiling. “Does it matter?”

Now, more determined than ever, his sister began rapid fire, “Who was hurt? Did someone die? I didn’t know you had anyone but me in your life, oh darling brother.” She grinned, chuckling a little at her own sarcastic comment.

“Listen, Lisa,” He was looking at her now, staring between her nose. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does if it’s hurting you,” She seemed genuinely concerned, and Leonard didn’t understand why. “Let’s see, who is important in your life, and isn’t me.” It took her a few seconds to realize, before her face dawned with shock, disbelief, and sympathy, all in the matter of milliseconds. She looked down at her own wrist, then at his. The dark ink was still fading from the night before. Sweetly, she asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” He lashed, standing upright. All the emotions he had been feeling the past few months, all the sorrow, loneliness, everything, came flowing out with each word he spoke. “I don’t know, Lisa, and I’ll never know! This person that I was destined to be with, I’ll never even know who they _were_!” Len shook his head, lowering his voice a little. “And now I never will. I’ll never know who they were, what their name was. I’ll never know where they were from, what they looked like. Lisa, I’ll never know _how my soulmate had died._ ”

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

Nine months.

Leonard spent nine months feeling alone.

Leonard spent nine months thinking his soulmate was dead.

Leonard spent nine long, cold months, thinking that he was destined to be trapped in jobs filled with despair and agony, working under whoever would pay him best each week.

It was summertime.

The heat had gone out in their apartment, which is not normally a big deal in the summer, but the temperature dropped at night to around fifty degrees. Len was wearing a grey shirt that was all too big, but it was warm, so he didn’t really mind.

He was in the middle of planning a job.

There was a man who wished for an ancient painting created around the industrial revolution. The sky was dark, the buildings reaching above the storm clouds, painted with blue accents. There was a nearby lake, tinted a bright green, reflecting parks, homes, and an entire neighborhood. The work was titled “Dystopia,” and while it was well done, Leonard thought that it was too pessimistic, too negative. Although, since the man who wanted it would never show his face, he supposed it fit well.

He had assembled a team of four with a focus on tech. The museum had high level security, so he would need an extra set of hands to try and break through the borders. Unfortunately, that set of hands had left a little over an hour ago, so Len was left puzzling over the issues on his own.

There is only one police department in Central City, which meant that there is an easy calculation for how long it took them to get to the crime scene after the guards tipped them off, which was bound to happen. Even with this, there were subtle errors that depended on the traffic that night, as well as stop lights and such. That was almost impossible to predict, but one could guess based on previous trends and the day of the week.

Len was sitting at the kitchen table, pondering over blueprints, graphs, and equations. A single light was on above his head, hanging from the ceiling. The clock on the oven illuminated a bright green 12:53, shining on the metallic surface around it.

 _No, the officers are at 7, not 8,_ he corrected himself, rubbing eraser shavings off the table with the side of his hand.

But then he noticed something.

As his hand slid across the table, the friction bringing his sleeve up just a little…

“Lisa!” No, it had to be a joke. “Lisa, get in here!”

She slid around the corner, socks squeaking against the tile floors, her toothbrush half hanging out of her mouth as she made a loud noise that somewhat resembled a scream.

Lisa took the toothbrush out of her mouth, a muffled yell of, “What happened?” through soap and saliva.

Len quickly stood, almost knocking the chair over. He ripped his left sleeve down, exposing the ink that stained his skin.

Her mouth fell open, toothpaste falling down her chin, voice still unclear when she demanded, “Where’d you get that?” Len’s sister motioned towards his arm, pointing with her toothbrush at his wrist.

“I don’t know!” He panicked, looking back and forth between the dark letters and his sister. _What the hell is going on?_

It took a few minutes for them both to settle down at the table. Lisa had spit out her various mouth liquids, while Leonard had pushed all his blueprints and charts on the ground.

It was only when the two of them were sitting down, staring across from each other that Len actually read his soulmate’s words.

_Lightning gave me abs?_

“Is that even possible?” Lisa asked, eyes narrowed and focused on the phrase.

Len glared at her.

She didn’t stop. “What? You’re smart! Tell me, is it possible to get ripped via lightning?”

Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lisa…”

“Come on, you could make a lot of money if you could figure out how to control that kind of power.”

“Lisa!”

The echo boomed around the kitchen, bouncing off the tiles as Len slammed his tightly bound fist on the wooden surface before him. He took several deep breaths, trying to control his frustration, a grey heat turning in circles below his stomach. After a few moments, Leonard unclenched his fist, shrugging back into his seat.

His sister looked at him, large eyes dripping with concern.

Len took a deep breath, letting it out in an exasperated sigh. “I just don’t know where to go from here.”

“Well,” Lisa’s eyes travelled along the forged scratches and cracks in their kitchen table, “To me, you have two choices.” Her pupils continued to dart across the platform, stopping to flick a piece of dust off as they continued onto her brother’s fingers, stopping on the dark imprints along his chilled veins, “You can either let it all go, continuing to live life without them,” She continued to follow the blue pathways up his skin until they made eye contact. “Or,” She grinned, “You can search for them.”

And so, the hunt began.

Len figured that, regardless of how strange that day was, there couldn’t have been that many people struck by lightning the night the Particle Accelerator exploded.

Unfortunately, “Struck by Lightning” is not a wing in the Central City Hospital. Actually, it wasn’t even a subcategory. There was no way to track down someone who had been struck by lightning through ordinary organizational means.

So, Len started researching the side effects of getting struck by lightning. Most of the symptoms he found online had to do with dizziness, eye damage, vertigo. Nothing uncommon to find in a hospital, leaving him with hundreds of results.

He tried to match this with coma patients, or patients who had been disabled for long periods of time. He found some, but none of their timing matched up.

After about three weeks of following methods similar to this, Leonard realized one major detail that he hadn’t even taken into account: he didn’t even know if they were in Central City.

Len never really assumed that his soulmate had lived in the same town as him until the Particle Accelerator explosion. When he stopped hearing from them after that, his mind just defaulted to the explosion. It could have very well been a coincidence. They might not even live in the same country.

That made things significantly more difficult.

Len started with the towns nearby. Although they weren’t at the center of the explosion, there is still a chance that they could have been hit. He checked the suburbs branching off from Central City. He began looking into Universities and Doctors specializing in electrical energy, brain damage, or anything else that could relate. Nothing.

But there was one more lead he hadn’t followed up on.

Transfers.

Long-term patients will often times get transferred to an alternate location so that they could be treated by a specialist. Although Leonard had gone through countless medical records from Universities, Neurologists, and much more of the like, he had never looked into the transfers from Central City Hospital.

As it happens, there was a patient who had been admitted the night of the explosion. He had spent about a month at the hospital before being transferred to S.T.A.R. Labs, likely because his injury had to do with the Particle Accelerator. The patient had been in a coma the entire time he had been at the Central City Hospital, although Len couldn’t find any records as to why. However, Leonard strongly suspected that he would not be able to uncover any information on the boy. The firewalls guarding S.T.A.R. Labs’ files were impenetrable. At least, they were for Leonard; hacking was never his strong suit, and he wasn’t about to go pay thousands of dollars and hire someone to help him track down his _possible_ soulmate.

This all took weeks for Leonard to figure out, and he was running low on cash.

He really needed to get a new job, and what better than the Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond?

But then he failed. His job failed, and it was all because of some kid running around in skin-tight leather. The Streak, the Scarlet Speedster, the _Flash_. It doesn’t matter their name, it just matters that they are out there, and they are ruining him. Skin tight, maroon dyed, leather bound lightning. Well, lightning sure was cool to look at, though treacherous to work with.

But lightning _is_ fun to study.

Leonard had to figure out everything about them. Strengths, weaknesses, point of origin. Were they alone? How did they become like this?  

Were there others like him?

But then Len remembered what got him into this whole mess: soulmate.

S.T.A.R. Labs likely had information on his soulmate. S.T.A.R. Labs likely had information on everything. S.T.A.R. Labs likely had information on _The Streak._

Thankfully, he had many friends in high places. Len reached out to several of them, voicing his distress about the company. One directed him to a well known thief who was known for taking advantage of business’s downfalls.

Well, the guy didn’t have any information on anything inside the S.T.A.R. Labs’ database, but at least it wasn’t a total waste.

He acquired a gun. Not just a gun, a cold gun, but not a freeze gun like in comics and TV shows. No, this gun hits its targets with a cool white flame, enveloping the directed area in a pale, shimmering glare like a cloud of stars. Though, instead of heating things up, it slowed them down, an effect to surely counter the speed of The Streak.

If Leonard could slow him down just long enough to get _something_. A gender, a voice, a face. And if he had enough time to ask a question, that would be pretty cool too.

The heist went just as well as planned. Len was able to obtain the artifact, kill a guard, and discover one of The Streak’s weaknesses.

Unlike Len, The Scarlet Speedster had an urge to help people. They weren’t just doing this for money; it’s likely that the police don’t even know who they are. No, The Flash was doing this because they _wanted_ to.

Leonard didn’t really understand why some people were born with this all-knowing sense to do good in the world. It was much more fun to create havoc wherever he walked. There were entire crime organizations on their knees before him. The rush down your spine, full of exhilaration and adrenaline when you successfully pull one over - well, that was something Snart would never get tired of.

But yet, there were people who could not be more of a polar opposite. The Streak, for example. Why did they care so much about helping people? Most of whom, they’d never even met. Leonard thought they might be getting paid or might be an employee for the police, but after seeing the devastation sewn across their features; the slant of their spine, the drop across their shoulders. No, this was a man who didn’t care about money or fame. This man only wished to save lives, as many as he could.

Len thought he was in the wind. His new information, the diamond, the money, his new gun. That is, until he began tampering with it and found a tracker.

A tracker.

For almost a month, Leonard had been running around with his gun, oblivious to the chip inside. Why hadn’t the police come after him? Why hadn’t S.T.A.R. Labs come after him? The tracker was still enabled.

There were two possibilities here. The first being that no one at S.T.A.R. Labs realized the gun was missing. This was unlikely. S.T.A.R. Labs keeps very precise data on everything, especially now with all the mysterious causes resulting from their particle explosion. If they hadn’t noticed it was missing, they probably saw him use it out in the field and noted it there.

The second possibility seemed way more obscure. What if they already had come after him? It would be very peculiar if S.T.A.R. Labs was working with the police after what had happened. Even if they were, the police response times would be much faster. Other than them, the only person who had come after Leonard was…

_The Flash._

It seemed very obvious once he put two and two together. Of course The Streak was working with S.T.A.R. Labs. He had probably gotten his powers from the explosion, similar to all the other unexplainable occurrences that had popped up lately.

But Len is imperfect, and his mind wanders to imperfect, implausible possibilities. Like how The Streak suddenly popped up nine months after the explosion, how The Streak was connected to S.T.A.R. Labs in a way much deeper than previously thought. Who was this like? His soulmate, who had been silent until nine months after The Particle Accelerator. His soulmate, who was struck by lightning.

Leonard thought back to his previous research on Central City Hospital patients who had been transferred. Including the one who had been transferred to S.T.A.R. Labs.

Len looked down at his wrist, rolling up his navy sleeve to reveal the imprint of his soulmates words.

_Sorry Joe, but I’ve gotta head over to check on Caitlin and Wells._

Dr. Harrison Wells, the one responsible for the The Particle Accelerator; the face of S.T.A.R. Labs.

Leonard’s soulmate was The Flash.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaa, it took a little longer to get this out than I hoped. I wanted the final copy to be under 7.5k, but looks like that isn't going to happen, lmao.  
> I took some dialogue from the series for this. Actually, I took a lot more than I'm comfortable with, but I did cut some parts out of the scene, change body language, ect.. I also realized that I changed Leonard's backstory a bit, but I mostly just did it so that the audience could learn a little more about the AU.  
> I do not have a beta reader, so there may be grammar/spelling/language mistakes, but I will go back and fix them as soon as I get time.  
> Enjoy!

Barry loved to run.

To run was to listen to his body. To run was to escape what was behind him. Every step he took, propelling himself forward. 

Barry has been running as long as he could remember. Whether it be for high school P.E., from his childhood bullies, or even metaphorically; running to escape his fear.

There was nothing comparable to the cool wind brushing his cheeks, the individual rocks shifting beneath his feet. With every step forward, he was brought into a new light of hope and determination.

But there are some things you can’t outrun.

His mother’s murder, for example. He had been running after the impossible all his life; step by step, chasing the unknown. It was like trying to shoot an arrow when you didn’t know where, or what, the target was.

Another example was the crisis that him and the rest of the team at S.T.A.R. Labs were trying to tackle. Well, the team excluding Caitlin, that is, for she had been kidnapped by none other than Leonard Snart.

Barry had seen the crime scene. He knows what had happened. The glacial overcoat on the car door. Even though his alternate persona, The Flash, wasn’t there, Barry Allen, C.S.I., is still good at figuring out what had happened. 

Caitlin had likely been outside her car, trying to get in when Snart had frozen the plate of metal. It took place near C.C. Jitters; an employee had called in a report on the incident. Snart had approached on his motorbike, likely with a companion (he could tell by the pattern and dents of crushed rocks on the crime scene). If Barry could figure out who the second person was, he might be able to use that to find Caitlin.

Leonard Snart had been trying to lure him - The Flash - into a trap. First, when he had broken into a garage full of expensive, high class cars, and then when he had taken a multi million dollar painting called “Fire and Ice.” Barry thought the name was fairly ironic, considering Snart’s cold gun and his mystery companion’s fire.

The first two times hadn’t worked. Dr. Wells had told him that, if he were to just leave Snart to the C.C.P.D., then eventually he would give up and there would be less casualties. However, now that Cold had taken Caitlin, Barry really had no choice.

It took a few hours, but Cisco was able to determine where they were keeping Caitlin based on the cold gun’s flares on the S.T.A.R. Lab’s satellite and air conditioning. Cisco and Joe were tasked with going to save her while Barry confronted Snart, in public.

The fight took place in the middle of Central City. This wouldn’t have been anything new, except that it had been announced ahead of time, meaning that it was an opportunity for anyone who wished to go and see if The Streak really existed.

And boy, did he exist.

Crowds watched as Barry was burned, frozen, hit, and almost dead. Thank God for Eddie; Barry wished he could thank him properly for, you know, saving his life.

In the end, Snart and Rory were apprehended, guns included. Cisco had taken the weapons from evidence upon Captain Singh’s request, promptly destroying them so that the two Rogues could do no harm.

It’s a good thing he did, because, while being transported to a more focused prison, Mick Rory and Leonard Snart managed to escape. How? Who knows, but they didn’t land in Central City, so there was no way of finding out.

Team Flash was sitting around the cortex when Cisco had given them the news. The two men had been arrested only a few days ago; Caitlin was still recovering. 

It took a few minutes for all of them to take it in, realizing that The Flash would have to face Captain Cold and Heatwave again soon.

“While we are all driven to fix this newfound issue,” Dr. Wells started, reaching for his glasses to readjust them on his nose, “I think it is important to remember that today, we succeeded. Tomorrow brings new challenges, but you will never be able to solve them without rest.” Wells began to roll out of the room, low hum of the electric chair accompanying him. “Good night!” He threw over his shoulder on the way down the hall.

“Well,” Cisco placed his tablet on the desk, proceeding to rub his hands together. “We can either sleep, like Wells suggested,” he paused as a smug grin spread it’s way along his mouth. “But it’s only eleven, and I need a drink.”

Barry didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. He turned to Caitlin, “How are you feeling? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She was still recovering from being kidnapped, and now, with the news of Rory and Snart’s escape, Barry didn’t want to push her. 

Caitlin shot him a short, sweet smile. “I’ll be fine.” Then, in response to Barry’s disbelieving eyebrow, “Really, guys. The Rogues won’t be in Central City anytime soon.”

“Okay, but Caitlin, you don’t have to force yourself into doing anything to make us feel better,” Cisco voiced, trying to make sure Caitlin knew her options. “We saw what happened.”

“Thank you, Cisco,” She smiled again, skin crinkling around her eyes. “If it’s alright, I would prefer to go home and get some rest.”

“Yeah, of course,” Barry answered.

“You two have fun.” With that, Caitlin shot them one last smile before promptly walking out of the cortex. 

Cisco waited a few seconds before asking, “You wanna get a drink?”

Barry chuckled. “You know I can’t get drunk, right?”

“More for me, let’s go.”

Barry dashed the two of them down the street, stopping in a nearby ally for Cisco to collect his thoughts before they entered, making sure no one else saw him zoom to a stop. 

The team frequented this bar often. It’s right down the street from the lab, and the owners know Cisco, Caitlin, and Dr. Wells very well from their many years spent down the block. Barry still preferred Jitters, but he liked the atmosphere here. There were T.V.s displaying sports games, and the usual drunks sliding around near the bathrooms, but the workers were always friendly. 

The air felt open and personal. So when Barry noticed dark marks fading into Cisco’s skin, he decided to ask about them. “What’s uh,” he gestured his glass in the direction of the other man’s wrist. “What’s your soulmate say?”

Cisco shrugged, peeling back his sleeve to get a closer look. Flexing his wrist, he turned it around so Barry could see.

_ Did you have doubts that your dear sister would come to save you? _

“She sounds sarcastic,” Barry commented, chuckling. “I guess she really is your soulmate.”

Cisco took another swing of his drink, swallowing in a large gulp before shooting an all-too-fake grin. “Funny.” He takes another swig, plopping the glass on the table. “What’s yours say?”

Barry held out his wrist, squinting so that he could make out the fine print in the dimmed lights. “ _ You think I wouldn’t have a Plan B?” _

“Oh, come on,” Cisco retorts, “You can’t say that  _ my soulmate _ is sarcastic when yours said  _ that.” _

“Hey, normally they aren’t like this!” Barry raised his hands in defense. “They normally have to do with mechanics and art. They seem like a very charismatic person!”

“Oh, that,” Cisco raised his glass, “That’s funny.”

“How is that funny?”

Cisco smiles into his drink before resting his elbow on the table, hovering the glass above the surface. “Listen, Barry. Everyone loves you. You’re not too bad looking, fairly intelligent, and, you know,” Cisco turns his head to the side, cupping a hand over the edge of his mouth before whispering, “part-time superhero.”

Barry sighed. “Thanks, but is there a ‘but’ to this?”

“Yeah, you’re not very stable around people you’re romantically interested in.”

Barry let out a laugh, “What do you mean, ‘stable’?”

“Rambling,” Cisco began counting on his free hand, “Stuttering, mumbling. Sometimes light shaking-”

“Okay, I get it!” Barry leaned back into his booth, swirling his drink around in it’s glass, watching the ice clink against the sides.

“You know how we can monitor all your vitals in the suit?” Barry shot a glare at his friend, before leading into another sigh, seeing that he wasn’t going to drop the topic. “There have been times when your blood pressure and heart rate have been comparable to when you save those in a collapsing building.” He raises his glass, taking another sip.

“Are we seriously having this conversation? Now?” Barry’s arms collapsed onto the table, posture sinking. He really wishes he could be drunk for this. 

“For example,” Oh no, “When you do team-ups with Oliver,”  _ oh no,  _ “When you save Eddie,” a sharp intake of breath, “And most recently, when you confronted Leonard Snart.” Oh  _ no. _ Cisco’s eyes narrowed, studying his reaction. “Is Barry Allen, the fastest man alive, gay?”

Barry released the breath he had been holding. “Actually, I’m bisexual,” he corrected, thinking back to all the years he spent crushing on Iris. “And you can’t really blame me for being physically attracted to them.”

“I guess not,” Cisco swished his drink around, watching the ripples land in small circles. “Oliver’s pretty hot, and Eddie’s fairly cute,” he shot a sly grin towards Barry, “Even if he is dating your adoptive sister.” Barry twiddled his thumbs, looking down at the table. “But Snart? Really? He’s covered by that stupid fur hood, prancing around Central City in black skinny jeans.”

Barry felt heat rising in his neck. “It’s just physical. Besides, you saw what him and Rory did to Caitlin.”

Even with with a tilt of his head, Cisco kept pushing. “But what if the opportunity presents itself?”

“Oh my  _ god _ Cisco,” Barry whined, “I would not have  _ sex _ with the enemy.” Barry had really only seen the edges of Snart’s face on the field. He knew what the man looked like, but it was only from mugshots. He had encountered his fair share of attractive assholes in his life. 

“Are you sure?” Cisco’s face iced over, turning deadly serious as his index finger trailed the rim of his class. “I just want to know that it won’t become a problem.”

Barry suddenly felt very hot under his friend’s gaze. His eyes turned towards the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to worry,” he reassured, confident in his words, though he may not show it. His gaze shifted back to Cisco, who was piercing an intense glare through Barry’s skull. “It won’t be a problem.”

 

\-------------------------------------

 

It really wasn’t a problem.

Barry spent several months in a steady routine. His time was split between the C.C.P.D. and S.T.A.R. Labs. He still lived with Joe; it was easier with his obscure sleep schedule. Really, not much had changed. 

That is until the tidal wave hit.

Wait, correction: that is until the tidal wave hit in an alternate timeline that Barry accidentally erased before knowing he could time travel. 

Now he’s here, living out a day he had already experienced. Sure, he had stopped the entirety of Central City from being destroyed, but Wells warned him that time would just find a way to replace it. Now Cisco was missing, and Iris and Eddie are mad at him, and why couldn’t he just time travel back and try again?

It took awhile for Caitlin and him to even realize that Cisco was missing. After Barry witnessed Cisco meeting someone at the bar last night, he just assumed that his friend was preoccupied, but when the team still hadn’t heard from him, Barry began to worry.

Wells  _ told _ him that history would find a way to replace the tragedy. He  _ warned  _ him. And Barry  _ heard _ him, but he didn’t  _ listen _ .

But if he had listened, then the entire city would be leveled over and, well, that wouldn’t be good either. 

Now, he is standing in a casino, a gun that shoots rays of gold held to the throat of his enemies’ sister (Barry didn’t even know Leonard Snart  _ had  _ a sister). Snart glared at him from across the room, smirk playing on his lips. 

And now Barry’s trapped between a cold gun and a hard spot, because Snart is talking about how they have Cisco, but his sister is literally  _ in his grasp _ . Frustration boils in the pit of his stomach, as Barry sincerely hopes that his mask is covering his obvious frustration when his teeth clench. 

Then, an awful, dreadful, gut-wrenchingly  _ painful _ thought surfaces in the back of his mind. Leonard Snart, dressed in his ridiculous parka, black skinny jeans hugging his thighs, sly grin outlining his prominent jaw line, shimmering mist of the gun bringing out the icey blue in his eyes-

Well, he looked kind of hot.

Barry threw Snart’s sister towards him. It was partly because he was frustrated about the situation with Cisco, partly because of other frustrations that were way more sexual than they should be. 

After a bottomless threat to Cold about his friend, Barry dashed back to S.T.A.R. Labs, determined that there had to be another way around this. He wasn’t going to let Snart just hold onto Cisco; he’s not a prisoner. And it seems as if Cisco already built new guns for their team, so what else did Snart need him for? 

Barry was not prepared for the answer.

Apparently, Snart had not only captured Cisco, but his brother, Dante, as well, which made much more sense. Cisco wouldn’t have given away his identity. No, not unless there was another life at stake, not unless his  _ brother’s _ life was at stake.

Honestly, Barry wasn’t mad. He would’ve done the same thing if Snart had iced Joe or Iris. He really didn’t blame Cisco; it was a tough position. But he was still upset. Leonard Snart, untrustable murderer and thief, knew who he was under the mask. He could find out where he worked, where he lived, who was closest to him. With that simple answer, Snart could infiltrate and ruin his entire life.

So Barry did what he did best. 

He ran.

The cold wind pierced his cheeks, pushing against him. Each foot, one in front of the other, clattering against the pavement. It wasn’t raining, but it’s not like the sun was out either, only short beans occasionally poking through the clouds. 

Humidity began to soak everything around him, and Barry began to wonder just how far he had gone. Between the thrashing coastline and vacant fields, he was far from home.

_ Maybe this is what I need,  _ Barry thought, quietly slowing to sit on the end of the road. Legs splayed out, arms at his sides, he let his mind wander.

Fingers twirling around a loose thread poking out from his shirt, his mind made wild leaps back and forth, from happy topics dealing with how lucky he was to have supportive and loyal people in his life, such as Cisco and Iris, and then to how Iris was currently in a lingering-state where she wouldn’t talk to him. He thought about how to keep Leonard Snart from spilling his identity, and then about what his life would be like if the world knew that the Flash was some nerdy C.S.I. named Barry Allen.

All of his thoughts led back to the same point. Barry wondered what would be happening right now if he hadn’t time traveled. Would he still be dealing with the Rogues? Maybe he would be at home, watching a movie with Joe. Maybe he’d be over at S.T.A.R. Labs, fighting a meta or laughing with Caitlin and Cisco. Would he have even been able to stop the tidal wave in the first place?

Wells was right. History had found a way to replace the disaster with something just as bad, and now, here he was, out in the middle of nowhere, pondering over what-ifs like an emotional teenager.

Well, people did always comment on how young he looked.

The sun began to lower over the horizon. Barry may as well find his way back before it got dark.

Then his find flashed back to Snart. Leonard Snart. International thief, known murderer, and the ghost who haunts Barry’s dreams. Images flashed through his mind of the man eyes, his elongated spine, a sweet moan teasing along his lips, tattoos coursing up his arms-

No, Barry, stop yourself.

He looked down at his arm, nodding in agreement with his soulmate’s words. They were almost too accurate for Barry’s current situation.

_ Now, we just have to catch him. _

 

\-------------------------------

 

The Rogues were kicking back in gear, hitting a moving van. It reminded Barry of the first time he had broken up one of Snart’s heists. How sentimental.

The task was simple: if he sped Snart away from the rest of his crew, then the heist wouldn’t go down nearly as well as expected. The police had a much better chance of taking down two Rogues with a misguided plan than all three of them.

He intercepted the load near a forest. There were two motorcycles and a passenger that held Lisa Snart. Luckily, the police seemed well-off, because the first thing Barry did was snatch Leonard Snart from the scene. 

It was a short run. He just needed to get Captain Cold away so they could talk somewhere where no one else could hear.

After dropping him off and continuing a few laps around to check for any eavesdroppers, he heard Snart’s sly voice perk up. “Nice to see you, Barry.”

Barry slid to a stop before him, maintaining a distance as he slowly peeled back the cowl. “We have to talk.” He looked across at the other man. Snart had his hood thrown back, motorcycle helmet tossed to the side. For the first time, Barry actually got a good look at his face. The moonlight left a soft gleam across his forehead, interrupted by the silhouette of the leaves. Cold’s signature smirk was clear, gambling across his lips like a game of poker. And boy, was Barry in for a royal flush as Snart peeled his goggles away, tossing them over his shoulder. A silver glint in his otherwise icy eyes reflecting the curiosity, lust, and sinister mourning his face didn’t dare show. 

With a short intake of breath, Barry spoke up, sounding much braver than he felt. “I know Cisco told you who I am.”

“Can’t really blame the kid for giving you up,” Snart drew each vowel out, breath panting small clouds in the chilled air before him. “You or his brother? Come on, I put him in a tight spot.” There was a short pause as Cold grinned, making vivid expressions with his long fingers. “Same kind of one I got you in right now. Can’t really stop me now that I know who you are.”

“I could speed you to my own private prison where you’ll never see the light of day.”

Snart’s eyebrow raised. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Barry to have something so immoral. But, nevertheless, a master criminal always has a master backup plan. “You could, but then I wouldn’t be around to stop my own private uplink that will broadcast your identity to the world,  _ so,” _ God, Barry could tell that Snart was enjoying this. The blackmail, the  _ teasing _ . He probably didn't have a projection with his identity, but there was no way in knowing for sure, so Barry really couldn't stop him. “The million dollar question; what to do with me now, Barry Allen?”

Barry would be lying if he didn’t absolutely adore the way his name rolled off Snart’s tongue, but a two-month-old Cisco peeped in the back of his mind; a memory of the conversation they had had at the bar that night. “I won't let you keep stealing whatever you want, whenever you feel like it. It needs to end.” He wasn’t sure if that last part was directed at himself of his enemy, because god  _ damn,  _ did this attraction thing need to end.

“Can’t do that,” a tilt of his jaw, smirk growing. “It’s what I do.”

Barry shook his head. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Then find a new line of work.”

Snart did the most exaggerated, sarcastic shrug, and Barry didn’t even know that shrugs could be sarcastic, but leave it to Captain Cold. “Don’t want to.”

“Why’s that?” Barry didn’t mean to match Leonard’s monotone voice. It really just happened.

“The same reason you keep running after guys like me. The adrenaline, the thrill of the chase. I love this game, and I’m  _ very good at it.” _

“Then go play it somewhere else,” Was the Flash really negotiating with his rival? It seems so. “Leave Central City.”

Without hesitation, as expected, Snart laid back a casual, “Can’t do that either. I love it here.” He took a dramatic, sarcastic inhale (because apparently breathing can be sarcastic, too). “This city is my home.”

If Barry let out a small chuckle, he really didn’t mean to, it’s just that dealing with this guy was so frustrating. He wasn’t taking it seriously, like it was a joke that him and his team would laugh about later. 

Barry takes a step forward, “You’ve seen what I can do.” He takes a few more steps, unable to separate himself against the magnetic attraction beaming from his nemesis. “You know that I can stop you. You wanna keep pushing your luck? Go for it, but from here on out, no one else dies.” He kept walking, unable to stop his feet. “If you’re as good as you say you are, you don’t have to kill anyone to get what you want.”

Snart tipped his head to the side, examining the vulnerability engraved across Barry’s face. “That’s true.”

Barry’s eyes darted around Cold’s face while his feet continued to move of their own accord. They were mere inches from each other now, able to feel the heat radiating from each other’s skin. “And if you,” he continued walking, noticing Leonard examining the sliver of exposed skin on Barry’s neck, eyes following a trail through his jawline, cheek, and mouth. “Or anyone in your  _ Rogues Gallery,”  _ as they grew closer, their eyes locked. Barry swallowed, “Goes near any of my friends or family again, I don’t care who you tell my identity to. I’m putting you away.”

As Barry’s feet planted themselves in the dirt and broken leaves, Len took the next step forward, not breaking eye contact. “I guess your secret’s safe,  _ Flash.”  _ And then, with a flick of his eyebrow, “Or should I say,  _ soulmate.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a good way to end the chapter? I sure hope so, because otherwise it would go on for years. Also, I don't know if I should cut this off at three chapters or go for four. Let me know what you think?  
> As always, feedback is appreciated! Thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: SORRY! The third chapter is taking so long, but I promise I haven't forgotten! I'm about half way through it. Progress should speed up now that I'm done with school! I'll get it out soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag yourself im the one who doesnt update for 3 months lol  
> hopefully this makes up for it, though! i have the next (and last!) chapter planned out, so im sure it will be faster this time around!  
> let me know if there are any grammar mistakes that i missed :)

The first thing Len noticed when he stirred was the sun heating his back from the nearby window. The second thing he noticed was the drilling pain inside his skull.

Len stared on to the emptiness beside him. The grey sheets were folded around his form, crinkling from movement. Really, he was content just laying here, thick blankets pressing down upon him while he downed approximately fifty Advil.

But then the events from the previous night came back to him.

Really, Len’s entire existence is puns and sarcasm. It seemed to frustrate some people, especially business partners who thought he wasn’t taking things seriously. It never bothered him; it’s who he is. But the way Barry reacted last night, well, he might have to rethink things. 

Leonard never really thought twice before speaking. He had pretty strong intuition, grew up in a very dangerous world, and he knew by instinct what words would determine life or death. However, this didn’t really include watching out for the fragile emotions that normally came with human nature.

He should have been more careful.

Barry Allen was his soulmate.  _ His soulmate. _ He knew it, had discovered it from connecting the words inside his wrist with records from the Particle Accelerator, but it never really sunk in until he said he aloud. Of course Lisa knew, and he’s pretty sure Mick knew as well, but aside from that, he had never discussed it with anyone.

Until last night.

Len knew the Streak was a human, a man, from the first time he foiled one of his heists. He understood that The Flash got his powers from the Particle Accelerator explosion. But what Leonard really could not understand, couldn’t fathom, is why. Barry wasn’t getting paid, he wasn’t being blackmailed, he didn’t even care if Central City knew he existed. 

Barry Allen genuinely wanted to help people. He was not only The Flash, but also a C.S.I. for the C.C.P.D.. He had no ulterior motive, no personal benefit. Barry Allen possessed a pure, untainted soul.

Len groaned, throwing his sheets aside. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he dropped his feet to the floor. With a loud sigh, he pushed himself up, using the nearby wall for balance as a hammer pounded into his skull.

It took longer than Leonard would have liked to walk the twenty feet into the bathroom, but he had to constantly stop, close his eyes, take a deep breath, and keep moving. The only thing that kept him moving was the sweet, sweet release of Advil.

He really did not remember much from last night, but Barry’s words were caught on repeat, volume and gain maxed out on Leonard’s inward amplifier.

Len had taken a leap of faith. He and Barry had come to this agreement; he wouldn’t kill and The Flash would let Captain Cold keep Central City as his playground. It wasn’t the best compromise Leonard had made, but it undoubtedly worked in his favor, so he had agreed.

Feeling accomplished and unnerved, he had decided to take a leap of faith; he had admitted to knowing that the kid was his soulmate. 

It didn’t work out well.

Barry had lashed out. He didn’t lay a finger on Len, but his words hurt far more than anything physical ever could. It left an ache in his chest as Barry thrashed him from side to side, cutting with knives as he insisted that Soulmates were not something Snart shouldn’t be joking about. He had insisted that the universe could never pair Barry with someone so polar-opposite, someone like  _ him _ .

It hurt, but he was right. Leonard knew that the boy was undoubtedly his Soulmate, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized how unworthy he was. Barry was this beautiful, intelligent, unstoppable force, dashing in and out of everyone’s lives, leaving nothing but the crackle of static in the air from the lightning coursing through his veins. What did Len have to offer? Money, sure, but it was all gained illegally. Even so, he doubted Barry would accept it even if it  _ was  _ gained legally.

It became increasingly clear that the universe had made a grave mistake. Out of everyone that had ever lived, there had to be mistakes. Maybe fate had wished a different path for one of them, or maybe she simply mixed them up with someone else.

But Len wanted Barry.

What had begun as a search to discover who his soulmate was - to meet them, to feel loved and  _ wanted _ \- had taken him down a road he never expected to walk on.

Even though they were natural enemies, Leonard hated seeing The Flash loose a battle, or worse, get hurt. The kid was so young, so hopeful, so full of life and so incredibly earnest. 

Maybe he didn’t believe him, but it was probably better that way. Barry deserved better. He already carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, he didn’t need these extra pounds dragging him down, keeping him from running his fastest.

Len stared at his reflection, right hand propping his body up against the sink as his left searched for painkillers in his medicine cabinet, eyes instinctively darting to his arm. The words had long faded, leaving only the pale skin below.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

“Oh, come on, Lenny,” Lisa placed the coffee cup on the table in front of Leonard. Steam curled into the air, releasing heat that only contradicted the snowflake design painted on the glass. “You have to get over yourself.”

He couldn’t stop the snort that came out of his mouth, even if he wanted to. “Get over myself? Sorry, let me just pack up and move to a universe where we aren’t all assigned a single perfect person. Or maybe a universe where mine actually likes me.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Stop making this so complicated. He’ll come around.”

“Sure, you can think that,” Leonard grumbled in response, staring at the ripples in his coffee. “After all, you are infatuated with his tech geek, Corco.”

“Cisco,” Lisa corrected. Of course, Len did know the kid’s name, but teasing his little sister never got old. Lisa sighed, running her free hand through her curls. “Do you actually want anything to happen between you and…” She paused, realizing that her brother still hadn’t told her the Flash’s identity. “What’s his name?”

Len smirked, looking up from his coffee. The movement created a newfound stabbing pain across his forehead, overwhelming his senses. Leonard squinted, trying to block out unnecessary light as he moaned at his sister, himself, the universe - everything. “I’m a man of my word, sis,” he got out, fingers to his temple. “No matter how awful I feel at the moment, I won’t break that.”

“But, oh, dear brother, it’s me,” She gestured dramatically to herself, putting on the most dazzling and obviously fake smile she could muster. “You know I won’t tell anyone.”

“It makes good blackmail,” was his only response. It was definitely not because he cared about the kid, or that he was doing it out of respect. How could someone even fabricate such a ridiculous idea? Nope, nope. Leonard Snart is a criminal, who steals stuff, and blackmails the superhero who just happens to be his soulmate. It doesn’t matter how radiantly beautiful the boy is, or how dedicated he is to his friends, family, and the right side of the law. Nope, nope. Blackmail. It’s for blackmail.

“Well, you said they don’t believe you. Why don’t you just, you know, prove it?” Lisa was pushing crumbs around her plate, acting as if it was the most simple answer to anything ever. 

And it would be, but there was a reason it wasn’t that simple. Sure, Len didn’t know what that reason was, but there had to be something. 

He slumped in his chair, mumbling into the coffee, “I wish,” between sips. 

Lisa leaned forward, playfully hitting her brother’s wrist. “Come on! You’re smart, I’m sure you could figure something out!”

“Lisa, this soulmate system has been around for as long as there have been systems. It was basically the first system.”

“Okay, Bill Nye. That didn’t even make sense, but I know you are thinking too deep into this.” She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Think, Lenny. Break the system; it’s what you do best.”

 

\------------------------------------------

 

“Barry, you gonna lock up on your way out?” Cisco called, voice echoing off the dark walls in S.T.A.R. Labs.

“Yeah, I’ll get it,” Barry yelled back. He was fiddling on the whiteboard, trying to come up with a way to counter Hartley’s sonic blasts. It was late, the lights in the cortex dimmed to almost nothing, illuminated only by the soft glow from the computers and the occasional lightning that appeared when Barry was scribbling an idea down.

It had been three days since his run-in with Captain Cold, which means that it had also been three days since Captain Cold had accused Barry’s of being his soulmate. In those three days, his wrist has read, “ _ I need to buy more milk, _ ” “ _ Wake me up when you actually have an idea, _ ” and “ _ It’s too early to rewrite the rules of the universe, _ ” which Barry doesn’t think would make anymore sense if he heard it in-context.

But tonight’s words were just starting to manifest themselves. He distantly wonders how the phrase is chosen. Is it always the 147th thing someone says that day? Does writing count? What if someone doesn’t speak?

Barry keeps writing, jotting down vague concepts and ideas that the team may be able to tackle tomorrow.

It’s only when he takes a quick glance down at his watch that he sees the blurred lines beginning to take on a more distinct form on his wrist. It takes a few seconds for them to be readable, but as soon as Barry can tell what it said, his jaw slacks open, marker falling to the floor as he feels his heart momentarily stop. 

_ Hello, Barry Allen. My name is Leonard Snart. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes again sorry for not updating for so long! i thought i would be able to write more during the summer but I Was Wrong and now im sufferring the consequences


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck did i do

He did it. Leonard Snart fucking did it.

It took him a few days to come up with something, but once he did, it actually seemed so incredibly simple. The soulmark was always something you said that day, so what happens if he only says one thing? It’s guaranteed to show up on his soulmate’s wrist, of course.

Knowing his plan didn’t make anything easier. He had to go an entire day without talking, enduring the seemingly endless teasing and suffering from Lisa and Mick. When the day was nearing the end, he was able to say one thing, “Hello, Barry Allen. My name is Leonard Snart.”

He was able to do it, and aside from the bickering from his teammates, it went without problems.

So, really, he shouldn’t have been surprised when there was frantic knocking on his door past midnight.

He was still awake, pushing himself off the couch and dragging his feet to the entrance.

“Dare I ask how you found my home?” Len drawled, swinging the door open.

Barry didn’t seem to register the question. His hair was windswept, cheeks red from the run. His jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, and his shoes were smoking, though the he didn’t seem to notice. Breathless, letting out small puffs of air that created clouds in the darkness. “It’s you.”

“Yes, I live here,” Len mocked, although he knew exactly what he was talking about.

“It- _god_ -” Barry propped his hands against his forehead, rubbing his temple.

“Would you like to come in?” Len asked, face decked out with an ever-so-smug grin.

Barry didn’t outwardly reply, dragging like a zombie through Len’s apartment and landing on the couch he had just gotten up from.

Truth be told, Len hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn’t of expected the kid to find his place so quickly, but in all honesty, he now realized how ridiculous that actually was.

Casually, he strolled over to the living area, sitting down on a nearby loveseat. Picking up a newspaper off the coffee table, he leaned back, making a show of ruffling through the pages as loud as possible. Of course, Leonard had already read this paper from start to finish, but Barry didn’t know that.

The speedster groaned, stretching his legs as he rolled on his side. “How much food do you have?”

Len dropped his paper, glaring at his guest. “Are you insinuating that this was just a pit stop?”

“Well, no,” Barry stretched some more, this time moving on his back. “I didn’t know where you lived, so I just continuously ran from each apartment building, checking the files of the tenants against the Central City list of citizens, looking for either your name or a fake name. I figured that you probably lived in an apartment rather than a house, since they are less permanent, but the hardest part was finding the people who owned the apartment buildings, and then-“

As Barry continued to ramble, Len glanced up at his wall clock.

12:42.

Boy, this kid really is _something_.

“So what does this have to do with my food supply?”

Barry blinked, registering that he had been cut off mid-rant before switching to the new topic. “Instead of just running fast, my whole body is sped up, so my metabolism is like twenty times faster than a normal human. Since I ran around so much to find you, it took a lot of calories, and I’m gonna have to refuel.”

“Maybe you’d burn less if you didn’t talk so much,” Len sighed, putting the newspaper back on the coffee table. “The fridge is over there,” he gestured vaguely toward the kitchen.

The speedster ran at “normal” pace towards the refrigerator, beginning his quest for high-calorie, super unhealthy food.

“Just don’t eat everything,” Len called over his shoulder, rising from his seat. “I’m going to need something to make breakfast for us in the morning.”

Leonard turned around just in time to see Barry drop a carton of milk.

He smirked.

Barry shuffled around for a few more seconds, eventually pulling out a loaf of bread and all the condiments Len owned. He didn’t use super speed, but the rate at which he made sandwiches was certainly inhuman.

“Are you actually going to eat all of that?” Len asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Barry finished slapping some peanut butter on the thirteenth sandwich, nodding before commenting, “You’re gonna need more bread.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

There was a long, deep silence, so thick that one could cut it with the knife Barry was holding.

Stacked up with eight plates, he carried them one by one to the kitchen table, pushing several blueprints aside. Len would have helped but, well, he was more in awe, excited to watch this tiny man consume… _that_.

They sat across from each other, Barry polishing off his one-man buffet while Leonard just watched, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest.  
While the silence was uncomfortable, neither man made a move to break it. The only noise was Barry’s secluded chewing, and it wasn’t until he arrived at the last plate that he said, “I can’t believe no one has ever thought to do that before.”

Len raised his eyebrow. Even though it was cryptic, he knew Barry was referring to his soulmark. It’s true, after he had come up with the idea, it had seemed so obvious. It’s just one of those things that everyone accepts at face-value, not questioning it. You learn about it so young, it always being a part of you, no one ever thinks that there is anything more to it than what appears. “What can I say? I’m a catch.”

Barry’s eyes darted around the room, clearly trying to avoid looking at the man before him. Len noticed his eyes dart across his wrist a few times. “You want to know what it says.”

Nodding eagerly, Barry half-heartedly put his partially finished sandwich on the plate. Leonard laid his arm flat across the table, wrist pointing upwards.

When the speedster’s fingers gracefully trailed his soulmate’s wrist, it felt like lightning, coursing through his veins. Although, whether this was from physics or chemistry, Len didn’t care.

Let it be known that Leonard Snart is not an impulsive person. He is cool, calm, collected; one might even refer to him as passive. But Leonard Snart is also flawed, and as he sat here, this absolutely perfect man tickling his skin with his soft, untainted fingers, he couldn’t help but cave.

With his knees weak, he leaned over the table, pushing the plates onto the floor and ignoring the crashing they made as each one shattered. Len grabbed Barry’s shoulders, pulling him up until their lips met.

It was awkward at best. Even without the table between them, the two still fumbled. Len honestly hadn’t expected to get this far, and therefore, hadn’t planned out what he was actually going to do.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this first?” Barry whispered, pulling back. His hands were laid flat on the table, maintaining balance, but he still stayed close. Leonard could feel the hot breath on his cheek, sending tingles through his nerves.

And Len tried to come up with some type of response. Something mildly intelligent. But words are hard, so obviously, the next best thing would be to climb on the table and kiss him again.

He ran his fingers through Barry’s hair, trying to convey the message of, “get up here, idiot,” and soon enough, he was. Barry climbed onto the table, putting one hand behind Len’s back and the other around his neck. Leonard just kept running his hands through the soft, brunette hair, loving the feel of it beneath his calloused fingers.

The table was small, and as they grew closer together, it wobbled beneath them, letting out soft creaks with each movement. However, neither man noticed, lost in the edges of each other, until the legs buckled and gave out.

They both tumbled to the ground, tangled in a mess of limbs. Barry laughed first, but Len soon joined, the beautiful sounds echoing throughout the empty apartment as they showered each other in light kisses.

Still, through all the awkward hands and broken pieces, it felt right.

Like they were meant to be together.

Like they were _soulmates_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this was supposed to be 8 chapters but we all know i would never be able to write that much.  
> so yes!!! this is it, the glorious finale!! while im not 100% satisfied with the ending, i do think it ties up the storyline fairly well.  
> maybe someday ill gain enough motivation to write an epilogue. wouldnt that be a miracle lol
> 
> but i hope you all enjoyed!! feel free to leave a comment if you have an questions/comments/just want to say hi


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me actually writing that epilogue!!!  
> not beta read as always because yikes

_One Year Later_

If Leonard had to choose a favorite part of this, it would be waking up.

Every night, he goes to bed, and every morning, he wakes up. The sun streaming through the blinds, presenting itself in stripes on the bed, winding their way around the ruffled sheets. The ceiling fan would blow air into his eyes, which was, admittedly, very uncomfortable, but it was worth it, because the only reason he had the fan on in the first place was the heat radiating off the man next to him.

Bartholomew Henry Allen. 

Len looked to his side, admiring how the air blew soft, brunet tufts of hair around as he laid, obliviously still asleep. Even with his back to him, Leonard could admire how beautiful he looked. The curve of his spine, loose grey shirt pooling on the bed. Barry's shoulder blades were outlined in dark shadows, facing away from the window.

But then he moved, a sleepy groan escaping from his lips, and Len smiled. "Morning, sleepyhead."

Barry rolled his shoulders, blanket draping off them almost majestically. He moaned loudly, burying his face further into the pillow.

When Len had first realized that The Flash was his soulmate, he thought it to be a huge, cosmic mistake. But no, the universe doesn't make mistakes, and even though he knows that, he didn't believe it. Even for the first few weeks they were together, Leonard had doubted it, keeping track of all the words to appear on his wrist, and all the one's to appear on Barry's. Granted, he was the one who had proved that they were soulmates in the first place, but, well... It didn't seem to fit.

However, as time grew on, Len realized that he could not be more ecstatic with his match. Barry Allen may have once been his rival, his enemy, his nemesis, but now that had all changed. He was his  _soulmate._ And, god, if that didn't make his spine tingle just a little bit. The man was breathtaking, absolutely stunning, and continues to amaze Len every single day. 

"Come on, Bear," He nudged his shoulder, shaking it a little. "You have to get up. Fastest man alive or not, you still have work."

Barry moaned, much louder this time, going as far as to pull the blanket over his head. Another thing about Barry Allen? Yeah, he's not a morning person.

Leonard reached out, grabbing the bundle of speedster and blankets to pull it close. "If you get up, I'll make breakfast."

The bundle started squirming, but Len just held on tighter. After a few seconds of struggling, he paused, long enough to hear his curious whisper instead of rusting sheets. "Pancakes?"

He chucked, letting Barry go. "Yes, I'll make pancakes." 

And, as if flicking a switch, he was off. Yellow lightning engulfed the apartment as Barry prepared to start his day (making sure to drop Len off at the stove, of course).

He absentmindedly mixed the batter, flipping each pancake as they came. It was pretty mindless, so he was able to zone out as the sizzled, only brought back to reality by two firm arms around his waist.

"What'cha doing?" Barry teased, resting his head on Leonard's shoulder.

"If I remember correctly, this is  _your_ breakfast," he answered, tilting his head towards the ever-growing stack on a nearby plate.

"Oh yes, how could I  _ever_ forget?" Barry pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away, moving to take the top pancake off of the pile. "Well done, as always."

"All of my finest for Central City's finest."

The whole exchange was extremely domestic. It's strange, really; Len never thought he would label himself as "domestic," but he supposes a speedster clad in red can do that to a man.

"So, you'll head to work," Len started, scooping the last set of pancakes onto the already huge pile, "and then I'll meet you at STAR Labs around lunch?"

Barry grinned, pressing a soft kiss to Len's lips. "I'll see you then."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Just as Len had never pictured himself being domestic, he'd never pictured himself working with heroes. 

Sure, yeah, his soulmate is the Flash, whoop-de-doo, but that doesn't mean he has to surround himself in acts of heroism. Yet, somehow, Barry's positive, can-do attitude's extremely contagious, prompting him to show up at STAR Labs one day and, well, that was that.

He spent most of his time fiddling with new tech. After all, it had been Cisco who had originally built the cold gun. It's always interesting to see what kind of new, genius invention the kid comes up with next.

"Hey, Lenny," Lisa called to him, walking through the entryway. Len had been the only one who'd officially joined Team Flash, if even that. While he still talked regularly to Mick, they'd followed their separate paths, with Lisa just following wherever the wind takes her. He'd actually just talked to Mick last night; he'd said something about writing a novel? Yeah, he's still into the whole "burn everything" mindset, but Len's happy Mick managed to turn over a new leaf.

"Yes, darling sister, oh dearest?" He teased, swiveling on his chair to face her.

She returned his smirk. "Just wondering if you're still going to follow through on your plan tonight?" She raised her eyebrows, and Len knew exactly what Lisa was referring to. 

"What do you take me for?" It came out shocked, but he was smiling. It had been very, very difficult to hide his plan from Barry, but in just a few short hours, he'll have pulled it off.

True to his craft, Cisco walks in, interrupting their vague conversation. "Sorry to intrude," He said, clearly not actually apologetic in the slightest. "Just have to, you know, work in my lab."

"Of course," Len replied, smug. He promptly marched from the room, adjusting his parka on the walk out.

The truth? Cisco and Lisa are soulmates, and everyone knew it but them. Even if they hadn't been able to figure it out from their soulmarks, the constant banter gave it away. There's even a betting pool over when they'd figure it out. Should someone just tell them? Probably, but this was much more entertaining, and who doesn't like dinner and a show?

 

\-----------------------------------

 

"I cannot believe we are eating  _here,"_ Barry laughed, warm smile spreading from ear to ear. 

Leonard had decided to take Barry out for their soul-aversary, or the anniversary of when they'd discovered to be each other's soulmates. (Lisa insisted that it's a  _thing,_ so why hasn't Len heard of it before?) It had been very difficult to encompass both of their interests, Barry's speedster metabolism, and the need to stay in Central City, but he thinks he may have pulled it off.

An interactive murder mystery, set during an elite dinner party. The audience enjoyed a buffet-style meal in dim lighting while a few select actors dinned among them, attempting to uncover the nefarious scheme. And, well, if Len called ahead to bribe his way into the show, Barry would be none the wiser...

The two men sat across from each other at an elegantly set table. The pristine white cloth was smooth to the touch, wrinkling only underneath their plates, glasses, and the single candle placed in the center. Everyone was dressed up incredibly nicely, and they were no exception. While the destination had originally been a surprise, Len made sure Barry was dressed to a tee, off-center bowtie and all.

The performance had actually begun about a half hour ago, each actor setting the stage with their own overly-detailed backstory, why they were at this party, etcetera, ectetera. Apparently, the host's fiancee had been murdered, and everyone pointed fingers at the usual suspects: mistress, waiter, butler. The whole thing was terribly cliche, yet Barry seemed to be enjoying it, and that's all that mattered.

"Attention, guests," one of the actors began, hushed voices dimming throughout the room. Previously, there had been a type of "intermission" where the audience had been able to enjoy their meals and each other's company. "There seems to have been a new discovery regarding the murder of Ms. Adington. It appears that there has been a burglary." 

As if on cue, Barry turned to glare at him. Len held up is hands in innocence, shrugging in response to the accusation. However, his face betrayed him, a teasing twitch to his smirk and raised eyebrows nearly foiling the plan.

The actor began walking through the audience, the end of his tailcoat dramatically flailing behind him as his cane moved in time with the clack of his footsteps. "It appears that Ms. Adington's engagement ring has been snatched right from her very hand!" He continued making his way around the crowd, spotlight following him with well-planned precision. Len sat up a little straighter in his seat, fully aware of what was about to happen. "And we have reason to suspect..." He stopped, a few feet from Len's own table, to dramatically point a white-gloved finger in his general direction. "That it was  _you!"_

Barry stared, dumbfounded, as a second spotlight was cast above them.  _"Me?"_

Len almost  _cackled,_ unable to stop a wide grin from forming nonetheless. First of all, Barry's reaction is absolutely priceless. He wished he could take a picture to cherish it for eternity. Secondly, the absolute irony of The Flash being accused of thievery was, well, amusing.

"An unnamed witness places  _you_ in possession of the stolen ring!" The actor elaborated, keeping his finger level with Barry's face as he slowly walked towards their table. "You  _dare_ steal from Ms. Adington,  _thief?"_

Barry continued to look more and more confused, lips drawn back and eyebrows raised. "I'm not a thief?" He clearly meant it as a statement, but there was an upward tilt to his voice that caused it to seem more like a question.

This was it, Len's big moment. 

"Liar!" He exclaimed, slamming one hand on the table as he stood abruptly. His chair flew out from under him, skirting across the floor and almost falling over. "I know this man to be a thief, for he has stolen my  _heart!_ "

The longer this went on, the more confused Barry seemed to get, and it just made the entire thing so much better than Leonard had ever imagined.

"However, as for the ring-" He released a dramatic exhale, reaching into a hidden pocket with his free hand. "It was I who stole it."

Barry seemed to realize what was now happening, mouth wide open and eyes unblinking.

Len shifted to the side of the table, lowering slowly to the floor. "Barry Allen, my life has not been the same since I met you. From the first day you ran into my life," he smiled at the pun, propping himself up on one knee. "you have challenged me to become a better person, a better man."

Barry looked like he was going to cry and, oh god, Len might too. Keep talking, push through it. _You can cry later, Leonard._

"Before I met you, I was just living day-by-day. Waking up, going through the motions, and I was content with that. Until I met you, I never thought I could settle down. You gave my life purpose, you gave it meaning." Len had practiced this several times, rehearsing it in the mirror backwards and forwards, but that didn't stop the raw emotions surging through him during the heat of the moment. "Waking up next to you every day, seeing your smile and optimism before I fall asleep, it's made me feel like the luckiest man alive."

Barry's hands were held over his mouth now. The rest of the audience was whispering around them, but neither man seemed to notice.

"You're my boyfriend, my best friend, my partner in crime, my  _soulmate,_ and I can't imagine a future without you in it." With shaking hands, he slowly revealed the small, velvet box, opening it between his hands. "Barry Allen, will you marry me?"

He barely had time to finish the question before Barry was screaming "Yes!" and pulling him up. The audience erupted into chaotic cheers, but Len didn't hear them. All that mattered was Barry's lips on his, arms tightly wrapped around him.

Len never wanted to leave, blissful in his soulmate's - his fiance's - embrace.

Maybe Leonard hadn't always believed in soulmates, but before Barry Allen, he hadn't believed that a man could run faster than sound, either. Barry had changed his life in all the best ways, and Len couldn't wait to start their life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think? good ending or nah? (im actually surprised i wrote it)  
> thank you so, so much for reading!!!


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